Necessary Evil
by Emmacakes
Summary: Bane's rule over Gotham has finally come to an end and the GCPD has issued a statement that he was found dead after losing his final fight with Batman, though everyone is unaware that Bane was actually rushed into the ER of Gotham General after the brawl. Nobody wants to take the case, but one doctor steps up, unaware of how far this decision will take her. Post-TDKR. Bane/OC.
1. Chapter 1

In a city that was desperately trying to recover from five months of living in a constant state of fear, its citizens were trying to maintain a sense of comfort and normality, despite how impossible it seemed to most. People's homes were destroyed; precious items stolen and lost to the wretches of the seemingly-great city. It had been without any highly noticeable crime for eight years because of the morality and stand against crime by a man who everyone looked to – bet their lives on, put every possible shred of confidence in – who had been displayed as a symbol of hope, of justice, of _fairness_, only to turn out to be as corrupt as those he tried to rid the city of. For eight years this went unnoticed, neglected by those who had put their absolute trust into this man, Harvey Dent – Gotham's knight of justice – until the city fell into the hands of a detrimental mastermind. A man whose name exemplified his intentions with perfection as he ripped the morality out of those less fortunate with claims to be freeing Gotham from corruption and oppression in order to cause mass chaos, despair and misery all while holding every unfortunate citizen captive under the threat of a nuclear weapon. He stripped the city of its sanity, its decency, its spirit and its free will. Bane – the man who had unveiled the darkness of falsified hope in Gotham; the man who had caused pure devastation.

Unforgivable, impermissible, intolerable – the thoughts of nearly every citizen in Gotham were the same. It was impossible to think of Bane as anything more than a madman who deserved life imprisonment after he had been caught, but there was a problem; he never _was_ caught, or so it seemed.

The police had issued a statement saying that he was found dead in City Hall, claiming that the Batman had killed him just before he had saved the city from the inevitable nuclear blast – saving the lives of millions of citizens as well as earning their astonishment and unconditional respect – though that wasn't the case. The city remained unknowing to the actual matter of Bane's whereabouts as he was rushed into the emergency room of Gotham General hospital not long after the bomb had detonated over the Gotham bay.

His case was unlike any other; not because of his condition, but because of the sheer refusal of all Gotham General staff to assist in his recovery. And that's where _she _came in, the doctor just benevolent enough for the job.

Rushing down the hallway, pulling her lab coat over her free arm, Amelia rushed to into the hospital; her short brown hair frayed from the winter breeze outside and slightly wet from the small flecks of snow that delicately fell, becoming gradually less frequent as if it were a sign of Gotham's new beginning now that Bane's rule had come to an end. Just a few hours earlier she had been at home, subconsciously praying that the constant state of fear that Gotham was forced into would soon end. Everything was in disarray and she knew that the city would completely fall apart if Bane wasn't stopped soon. Little did she know that the bomb was set to go off that day and that she, along with countless others, were scheduled to be killed.

And then it happened. A loud explosion in the distance that shattered whatever sense of calm resided within every citizen. She braced herself, instinctively ducking her head down, but after a moment or two she came to the realization that her life wasn't in any danger. Curious, she walked out onto the street with piqued interest as many of her neighbors had as well. From the distance, over the surrounding low buildings, she looked out at the mushroom cloud from the detonated nuclear bomb; its orange glow almost a beautiful sight, seeing it so far from the city. They had been saved, but she was not yet sure of who had saved them, though that did not stop her from rejoicing with her neighbors – strangers who she would usually never even give a second glance to – and rushing to her car to investigate the matter further. From the eyewitness accounts that she had overheard hearsay of, it was Batman who had flown the bomb out over the bay before it detonated. He paid the ultimate price in order to save the city, and Amelia found it hard to believe. She was appalled by him supposedly murdering Harvey Dent, but he had definitely proven his worth to this city. Finally, it was over.

The past few months were outrageously stressful for her, seeing as countless people were injured during the riots that had broken out and most of her free time had been spent at Gotham General caring for those who had been affected by the chaos that Bane had unleashed. Her generosity was like a vice clenched around her mind, holding her to her career. It was the only thing she had and really the only thing that she truly valued over everything else.

She expected looks of relief from the hospital staff who were already on call, but a mix of infuriation and sadness dwelled within the faces of most of the co-workers she passed. She raised an eyebrow as she opened the door to her office before sliding into her desk chair. An unintentional sigh escaped her lips as she closed her eyes in relief. For what seemed like years rather than a few months she had been living in fear, trying to adjust to the new era of Gotham that had been unveiled before her, and now she felt that she could finally recover from all that had happened. Efficient electricity, hot water, free will – she would get all of these luxuries back.

The sound of her office door opening made her reopen her eyes with a slight instinctive gasp. She swung her chair to face the door to see the hospital director standing in the doorway with a conflicted look on his wrinkled face. He was an older man with an almost stereotypical look of superiority. Surprised by the visit, Amelia stood and greeted the director with a warm smile. She opened her mouth to speak but was immediately interrupted by the gray-haired man and tried hard not to cringe at him doing so, but she could see the urgency in his eyes and was considerably understanding to his actions.

"Doctor Stylls, I'm glad I caught you. Did you just get in?" he asked; an attempt to be friendly, though she could hear in his tone that he was doing it to be ethical but not really for any other reason.

She quickly nodded, but with a hint of questioning. "Yes, just a few minutes ago. Why?"

The older man's bony fingers clasped together as he hesitated to answer Amelia's question, causing the only thought to be running through her mind at that moment to be '_Shit. There's something wrong, isn't there?'_

"I don't know who else to turn to with this case so I'm turning to you as my last option, Amelia." There was desperation in his voice, hoarse and shaking, and Amelia immediately picked up on it. That and the use of her first name gave a sense of desperation that she had never seen from the man before.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she nodded slowly; dreading whatever it was that he had to ask of her. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets, her fingers twiddling within them with anxiousness.

He unclasped his hands and waved them about with emphasis as he presented her with his reasoning – something she had definitely not been expecting. Something that no one could have expected, or really even imagined for that matter.

"Bane was brought in a few hours ago…" Amelia's eyes widened at the statement. The idea of him being so close, it chilled her to the core. "…He was found nearly dead in City Hall as if he had been shot with some sort of _canon_ or something. They were ordered by the police commissioner to call an ambulance and have him brought here for treatment." He paused for a moment, but he was hardly at the height of the conversation. "Now, the hospital is being paid by the state to keep him alive so that he can serve his time in prison when he has recovered, but due to all that has happened in the past months, every physician I've spoken to has refused to even look at him."

The director continued, but Amelia seemed fixated on what he had just told her. The idea of doctors refusing to treat a patient seemed absurd to her, even in this case. She could feel her throat begin to tighten as she thought about her options, though she honestly felt as if there weren't any. She had always been a firm believer in never denying a patient, despite what their history was. It was a moral that her father had instilled within her long ago and one that she couldn't seem to shake even if she had tried her hardest to. A flaw most could say, but she never saw anything particularly wrong with it, up until now.

She interrupted the director, taking her hands from her pockets and crossing her arms over her chest with displeasure. "Wait, you mean no one is going to treat him?" She cocked her hip to the side and narrowed her eyes in dissatisfaction.

The director was hesitant now, his voice quiet as if he were embarrassed. "It looks that way, yes."

Slowly nodding her head, her bottom lip in a small pout as she thought of the correct response to the situation, Amelia bit her lip and looked reluctantly at the hospital director. Thoughts rushed through her mind, feeling an overwhelming urge to shudder at the reality of this situation. "We can't just let the man die, can we? I'll take care of him."

A look of surprise glinted in the director's eyes as he looked into Amelia's, a dead serious glare staring him down as if to hold him in place. "Thank you, Doctor Stylls." The old man was basically jumping for joy on the inside; he would probably do anything in order to receive money for the hospital.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small beeper-like device and handed it to Amelia. Her eyebrow rose as she looked down at the item and looked up at the director.

"You can't be too careful with him. If he causes any problems for you whatsoever all you have to do is press this button and it will notify hospital security." He pointed to the button in the center of the device, Amelia finding him to _literally_ be pointing out the obvious. "Also, very important, you must not tell anyone about him being admitted here. We don't want the patients to panic and he's been declared dead in order to not cause an uproar."

Amelia tilted her head to the side, her hazel eyes narrowed once again as she questioned the reasoning as to why Bane was declared dead. He was going to serve life imprisonment after he was released from the hospital, why hide that from the citizens of Gotham? "Another lie? Don't you think people have dealt with enough lies the past few years?"

A stern look was suddenly evident in the director's eyes; his gaze cold and serious which stared straight through Amelia and her good intentions. "It's not my order. Listen, we can't have people running here to the hospital trying to finish the job of killing the son of a bitch. If you care about your safety, that of those around you and the future of this hospital, you will not say a word about Bane to anyone outside of the medical staff here, understand?"

Being reprimanded was never something that Amelia was particularly fond of. She couldn't help but feel like she was transported back into her childhood whenever she was, but she knew that this was a serious topic that was not to be taken lightly. Bane was dangerous and even saying that seemed like an understatement. He could snap her neck as he did to Dr. Pavel during the Rogues game if he truly wanted to; her life was already in danger seeing as she was going to be caring for him on her own, picking up the responsibilities of the nurses along with her regular job description. It sunk in that she couldn't possibly endanger people's lives by saying anything about Bane's hospital admittance.

She nodded with a false sense of confidence and shoved her hands back into her coat pockets along with the beeper. "So where is he now?"

The director's stern expression dulled and he opened the office door, holding his free arm out toward the hallway, allowing her to exit the room first. "He was just moved from recovery into the ICU. I'll show you to his room."

Smiling gently, Amelia walked with the man to Bane's room. He had his own private room at the end of the hallway, an expected precaution. She could feel her heart rate beginning to accelerate as she stood beside the door, the director continuing to brief her on Bane's current condition. "He's heavily sedated so you don't need to worry about him right now. Also, they had to remove his mask when he came in for obvious reasons. So that, along with his other belongings, have been placed in the cabinet of his room. We're unsure of the mask's purpose, but I'm sure he won't hesitate to tell you when he wakes up."

"Okay, I understand." An awkward silence fell between the two of them; Amelia feeling rather hesitant on entering the mercenary's room.

"If you have _any_ problems at all don't hesitate to press that button, and thank you for stepping up to do this, Doctor Stylls. You are helping this hospital a very great deal."

_The hospital._ That wasn't the entire reason why she had decided to do this. She couldn't deny a patient and Bane was no different, even though she was disgusted by even hearing the mercenary's name. In a misplaced sense of morality, she felt as if she _had_ to treat him. In honor of her father, his morals, and those who he had inherited them from.

"It's no problem, sir. I'm happy to take the opportunity." She lied with a gentle smile, sealing the deal before the director turned away to leave her to the task that she had just forced herself into.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to regain her confidence. The hallway was quiet, only a few beeps from different types of medical equipment and distant coughs coming from the rooms whose doors were left open. With undeniable uncertainty, she opened the door, sliding inside of the room as quietly as she could even though she knew that Bane was still sedated.

The florescent lighting shone down upon the mercenary's sleeping body causing the various scars on his scalp to stand out tremendously, some larger than others and some with smaller ones interconnecting with them; one small scar going through his right eyebrow. Though the thing that she could not seem to overlook was that his facethat no longer bared the gruesome, almost animalistic, facial oddity that he seemed almost incomplete without. She almost could have mistaken him for someone else but thinking about his mask brought just who she was dealing with better to her attention and she nearly winced at the thought. The dismaying face that had been all over the media as he took control of the city; the man who preached lies and murdered without even the slightest hint of remorse for any lives lost. He was truly a terrifying being, intelligent and lethally strong, and that mask completed the world's disassociation with him and humanity. He was above humanity; he was the face of chaos and false hope – he was Bane, the cause of misery brought upon Gotham.

Though now, without his mask, he seemed like he were almost an entirely different person. His expression was relaxed and almost innocent as he slept; surprisingly lush lips dry and cracking, a slight bump on his nose from a past fracture, the skin on his cheeks still reddened with a slight rash from constantly adorning the mask. He would have looked pretty ordinary if not for his hulking frame; his broad shoulders covering almost the entire width of the gurney and the small blanket covering his body unable to cover up how massive the man was.

Amelia walked to the bottom of the gurney, feeling increasingly intimidated with every step that she took closer to him, taking the chart off and examining what had been written. Bane was a disaster, but a fighter nonetheless. The surgeries he had undergone shortly after he was brought in were for fatal injuries, though they were successfully repaired. Looking down she saw that there were additional notes. There was mention of a horrendous scar that ran down the entirety of his back insinuating that he had undergone spinal surgery in the past, though probably not effectual in the least as it looked unprofessional and jagged. She couldn't help but find it fascinating, wondering just what sort of trauma he could have gone through in order for him to need such an extensive procedure even if it had been a failure. It was also noted that he was wearing a back brace when he came in which all led to him having a history of some sort of spinal condition.

His IV, catheter and dressings were fixed a few hours ago so there was no need for her to change any of them. She felt that there was no need for her to be there and she definitely didn't want to be in there longer than she had to be, but knew she would have to return before the night was over in order to explain his condition.

She placed the chart back on the end of the gurney and walked out of the room, pumping some hand sanitizer onto her hands before briskly walking up the hallway. Nurses at their station glared at her and she could feel the overwhelming sense of anger toward her.

_When did I transport back to high school? _She thought, trying to avoid eye contact with those around her. She figured that everyone must have assumed that she was the one who stepped up to care for Bane, silently judging her as she went to check on her other patients. If she were in high school this actually might have bothered her, but now all it did was irritate her. Despite what Bane had done, how could they just let him die? Deny him the chance to live and to serve his deserved time in prison where he belonged. Maybe she was flawed, too kind of a person, but she most certainly didn't believe herself to be. If anything she found herself to be somewhat cold and distant. Not to her patients exactly, but to just about everyone else who had no true significance to her. Neither her coldness toward those of little significance or her unconditional kindness to those she treated earned her any pleasantries, not that it mattered to her. What mattered to her was her dignity and the sheer interest in what she was doing with herself that gave her life purpose.

"Are you really gonna do it?" Finally Amelia looked up at the sound of the voice addressing her. It was one of the nurses who had just walked over to her from the ICU's nurses' station. Amelia could feel her insides churning at the sight of her as she really wasn't interested in anything that she had to say, or really dreaded it to be exact. She blankly stared at her and waited for her to continue because she knew that she went over to her with the will to speak her mind and there was no way to avoid her.

The nurse lowered her voice so the patients in the surrounding rooms wouldn't hear – they must have already known the drill about not letting the patients find out anything on Bane's admittance. "Are you really going to treat Bane?" She crossed her arms, a falsified look of concern written on her face that Amelia couldn't stand looking at.

"Well, yes. What else am I supposed to do? Leave him in there to die?" Amelia's brows knit together in a look of disgust, crossing her arms defensively.

The nurse's voice rose, though only slightly, becoming instantly ill-tempered at Amelia's defense. "Yeah!" She pointed her arms outward as if she were to weigh the pros and cons of something, palms facing the ceiling as she projected a cynical laugh before dropping her arms back to her sides. "After everything he did… you're just gonna stand there and treat him every day as if nothing happened? That bastard doesn't _deserve_ treatment."

A fair point, and Amelia agreed with her to some extent. As much as she believed that no patient should ever be denied, she couldn't just cover up the murders or the fact that the man had isolated Gotham from the rest of the world and basically turned it into its own city-state, bound to the strict rule they had been forced to live under. He was a merciless warlord, and she understood that and felt just as much disgust and fear as others did. Technically, he _didn't_ deserve treatment. But that didn't mean that she would deny him the option and allow him to drop dead in the hospital due to any post-surgery complications.

Or perhaps she didn't hate him as much as others did, so she thought. There was not one person in Gotham that held any real significance to her. Her friends from medical school had all moved on to other places and she lost contact with most of her family after the loss of her father. The only thing that bound her to this city was her appreciation for it and the need to help those within it, in honor of those who believed in the same ideals. Throughout the past months under Bane's rule, hundreds of people were killed; whether it was from his hand, those of her mercenaries or crazed street thugs feeling over confident due to the riots that had broken out – those people had families and friends who had to deal with the loss of the people they cared about. Amelia watched countless people break down after the loss of their loved ones and knew how heart wrenching a situation like that was, and she thought that maybe the reason why she didn't hate Bane as much as she should have was because of the fact that she was not in that situation as others had been.

"Listen, the hospital director came to me with Bane's case and I took it because he asked, okay? He was desperate so I'm doing him and this hospital a favor by doing this. After he's recovered a bit his ass is being hauled off to prison anyway, so everyone needs to just back off." Amelia shook her head, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ears before she continued to check on her patients, regardless of whatever the nurse had left to say.

She couldn't let this decision toy with her conscience too much or she would not be able to achieve much during the course of the day. She took a deep breath and checked on her other patients, some of which had visitors who ecstatically expressed to them how the Batman had successfully flown the nuclear bomb out of the city and how astonishing the entire scene was. Amelia shared her thoughts on the event, telling them how overjoyed she was that Gotham could go back to how it was before and how she couldn't believe that she ever doubted Batman's philanthropic values.

She saw so much of herself in Batman, in an obscure way. Both tied to this city, destined to help its citizens in their own way. He obviously did much more than she ever could and was infamous for doing so, but she was happy doing what she could. She believed in him, at first, back when he first had appeared in Gotham – back when Doctor Jonathan Crane had tainted the city's water supply with his fear toxin. And she didn't only see herself in the mysterious masked vigilante, but also her father. His values, his immortal virtues that he had instilled in her as she grew up thanks to Thomas and Martha Wayne and the influence they had on him. She only wished that their son had grown to uphold the same unconditional benevolent qualities that they had.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

So here it is! My post-TDKR fic (which will later become Bane/OC). Sorry for the severe lack of Bane in this chapter. He'll be coherent and vulnerable in the next  
chappy, so don't you guys worry. ;D

I'm REALLY happy with my OC Amelia. She's got a real misplaced sense of morals, doesn't she? I kinda wanted her to have that quality about her so that she can have a similar quality to Batsy since she idolizes Thomas and Martha Wayne's ideas of helping those in need despite class or background that she was raised around because of her father, even though she doesn't know that Batman, who she somewhat sees herself in, is actually Bruce Wayne. X3 But that will get much more interesting as the fic goes on. Just wait and seeee~


	2. Chapter 2

When she finished her rounds Amelia returned to the ICU; Bane's room like something out of some sort of horror film – the last door at the end of the mainly deserted hallway, only a few patients in the nearby rooms because of what she assumed to be a precaution. All it needed was cheap florescent lighting that hummed and flickered on and off and papers to be scattered across the floor. She laughed to herself at the thought before taking a deep breath, clutching the doorknob with clammy palms. She figured that Bane was awake by now, it being a good couple of hours since she had last been in to see him. She thought about what he would say to him, and the more frightening circumstance – what _he_ would say to _her_.

As quietly as she could, she opened the door and slipped inside of the room. Shutting the door behind her just as quietly, carefully glancing over at the hulking figure in the small gurney, she saw his steely eyes looking over at her through partially opened eyelids. Letting out a breath that she wasn't aware that she was holding, she walked over to the gurney and felt ridiculous for feeling so stiffened by unintentional fear. He wouldn't be able to sit up no matter how much he wanted to; simple laughter would be the cause of excruciating pain – not that she actually thought a genuine laugh would ever come from Bane's mouth – forget about getting up and causing trouble. Right now he was just as helpless as any other post-op patient.

She rested a hand on the handle on the side of the bed, raising her eyebrows at the familiar stranger below her. "Hi, I'm your doctor, Dr. Stylls." She sounded incredibly professional, unintentionally giving him the cold shoulder that he was well-deserving of. "How long have you been awake?"

Bane gazed dully up at her, his brain still adjusting as he was regaining full consciousness. "A few minutes," he said hoarsely, his throat scratchy from the endotracheal tube during surgery. It was strange to Amelia, hearing his voice so clearly for the first time without the mask distorting everything he projected.

As he lay there, Bane became increasingly aware of his surroundings; mainly of the fact that his mask was missing as a dull ache slowly became apparent. Though it wasn't just his back that ailed him now, his entire body throbbed; the familiar shooting pain from his back standing above all else that he felt. His mouth slightly gaped and he inhaled impulsively to receive the sweet vapor-formed relief that his mask had constantly supplied him with though he felt no such thing. His heart palpitated as he thought about the whereabouts of his mask and his back brace that he noticed was missing as well, hoping that there were intentions to return both items to him as soon as possible. It was almost insulting, how helpless he was without his mask, but he couldn't deny his reliance on it. Without it he would not be as strong as he was – as daring, as efficient.

His mind raced, trying to piece together a seemingly unsolvable puzzle – if he were still in Gotham, what his business was there in that hospital – but he couldn't seem to piece the bits of information together. Though the doctor was speaking to him, he easily tuned her out; his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall what had happened before he had awakened there.

_Talia._ Her loving hands against his mask, gently putting the tubes back into place to spare him from his constant state of agony that she sympathized with and pitied.

"_Goodbye, my friend." _The last words she had said to him before he watched her walk away, as they were to carry out her father's wishes and die with the city for the higher purpose Talia had so strongly believed in – what they had fought for; their ambition, their plan, his chance to prove his worth.

But here he was, lying in a hospital bed with little knowledge as to why. He survived the nuclear blast, which means that he and Talia had failed and it was very likely that she had been caught and imprisoned, or even worse – dead. The simple thought made him want to cringe. A fate she did not deserve, he thought. She had spent enough years of her life in prison, Hell on earth, under such cruel circumstances. But now he wasn't there for her. He, her protector, was no longer able to continue his fate-brought duty. The only joy of his life, his redemption, had slipped away from him.

He inhaled deeply again, becoming more aware of the pain that gradually took control of his body, but tried to calm himself as best he could. There was no use in panicking; he needed answers.

Amelia looked into Bane's hazy eyes, watching his attention being drawn to her after noticing him fade out for a few moments before explaining to him what had happened. "You appeared to have been in an accident. You were found nearly dead in City Hall by some of Commissioner Gordon's men. They probably didn't want to bring you in, but the commissioner issued that you be taken to a medical facility for treatment so you can serve your sentence in prison when you're healed."

That was right. Selina Kyle had shot him with one of Batman's contraptions in her last valiant effort to help him save his pathetic city, he thought. He wondered what had become of him… what had become of Talia. They might not have destroyed the city, but he tried to hang onto the fact that they might have accomplished killing Batman. Killing the man who had murdered Talia's father was but a small fraction of their plan, but if they could not accomplish the rest then it would have to be enough.

As if suddenly coming out of a trance, Bane's hand snapped forward, taking firm old of Amelia's wrist. She gasped, shaking nervously as she feared his next move, waiting for it. Trying to pull away, Bane's grip tightened. His hand was large enough to wrap around her entire wrist, engulfing it and squeezing it with an unearthly grip. She turned to the door and then remembered the pager that she had in her pocket that the hospital director had given her. Her mind racing, she tried her hardest to figure out exactly what to do without exacerbating the situation.

Bane tried to clear his throat; an irritating twinge of pain shooting down it. "Where am I?" His voice was hoarse and quiet, almost an inaudible whisper, but stern; an inquisitive tone lying beneath.

Amelia looked back at him, her panic-struck eyes wide. "You're at Gotham General Hospital." As she told him his grip loosened, and after the statement he had let go.

He and Talia had failed to destroy Gotham after all.

As unmoved as he seemed, Amelia figured that this probably bothered him and that she might as well take advantage of the situation. She rubbed her wrist and took a step back to find a sense of calm again, letting out a deep sigh out of relief and a hint of misplaced embarrassment. She smirked, tilting her head to the side; nodding as her eyes narrowed with harsh sarcasm. "Looks like it's all over for you now. You're stuck here and that nuclear weapon you threatened us all with detonated about ten miles from here over the Gotham bay." She turned to his IV, changing the bag of fluid that was nearly empty with a new one.

Bane eyed her up and down as he watched her fiddle with the IV, placing it onto its stand before looking back at him with a deeply hidden sympathy. She quickly walked over to the bottom of the bed to grab his chart, reanalyzing it before giving him the rundown of what his condition was. Surely he must have been curious, though the mercenary's mind was too clouded with other thoughts at the moment to question his injuries. The pain was unbearable, becoming increasingly less tolerable with every minute that went by, and the only things that concerned him were the whereabouts of his mask and the depth of his failure.

"You had massive internal bleeding so you needed multiple blood transfusions along with very extensive abdominal surgery to patch up the organs that had been damaged. Luckily for you, they were in good enough shape to fix and not be removed. So no transplants for you." She shut the chart, placing it back at the bottom of the bed and returned to his bedside. "You're a fighter, I'll give you that."

Bane gave no response and Amelia questioned his unmoved stature. She noticed a growing change in him, his eyes growing duller as he stared blankly at the ceiling and suddenly he didn't seem nearly as confident as he was while he was in control of the city. Now he was just an average man, back from the brink of death, and left to deal with the pain of his downfall along with the physical post-operative pain as his the consequence to his actions.

She quickly glanced over at the EKG monitor on the other side of his bed and saw his heart rate had elevated. Despite his dull façade, something was obviously wrong. She blinked in curiosity a few times, her head tilting to the side slightly. "Are you okay?" Suddenly her cocky attitude had disappeared; she was now as concerned for him as she would be for any patient. "Are you in any pain? I could up the dose of your pain meds."

A small whimper made it past Bane's lips, barely audible but enough so that Amelia could hear it. He grit his teeth and clenched his eyes for a moment before the two shot open; his mouth agape and eyes wide as he called out in pain, becoming gradually louder as the pain he felt became harder and harder to bear. He thought he would be able to last longer before he reached his breaking point, but couldn't resist reacting to such extreme pain. It was almost as if he weren't on any pain medication at all. He had built up such a tolerance over the many years of being so hopelessly dependent on painkillers that only the compound in his mask could supply him with any ounce of relief.

Amelia looked on in pure shock, feeling her own heart race at her uneasiness due to the strangeness of the situation. For a man so infamously well-composed, once-triumphant and tenacious, this moment seemed almost as if she were imagining it. He had always seemed like he were incapable of experiencing fear or agony, but now the two intertwined, creating a man who was vulnerable and unfocused.

The whole midsection of his body throbbed; his back sending shooting pain through his limbs like he was being shocked repeatedly from the inside. His mind was blank, but he tried to bring bits and pieces of rational thoughts together in order to speak clearly. "My mask…" he struggled to say.

Amelia was over at the machine that was distributing his morphine, upping the dose as she thought was obviously necessary, but the mention of his mask peaked her interested and caused her to look back over at him. "What does that have to do with anything? I'm afraid I can't give it to you." Her reasoning was simple – she didn't know what its purpose was. From the looks of it, it seemed like it was worn to frighten people, though now she questioned her former ideas of the item.

Bane took a deep breath, still trying to find his focus. "It helps with pain." His breathing became more rapid as he clutched the blanket draped over his body. "Return it to me."

There was desperation in his tone as well as a familiar sternness. Amelia raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly, trying to process his request. Although she had doubts about the mask's purpose, it was nearly impossible to gain any information about it while Bane was in such agonizing pain. She turned on her heels and walked over to the cabinet on the other side of the room which contained the mask and back brace. As soon as she caught sight of the mask, her eyes seemed locked on it. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before – truly one of a kind- and its parts seemed unprofessional, like pieces of car scraps that had been thrown together. So grim, so inhuman. Returning it to Bane, allowing him to adorn it once again, would remind her of the past months. Of all of the misery he had put the city she adored through and all of its suffering. She shuttered at the thought, but picked it up. Holding it in her hands, its metal cool and displeasing, she analyzed it. Up close she could see its small flaws – the wear and tear of what must have been many years of being worn, and just how strange of a contraption it appeared to be.

She held it in her hands for a few additional moments before she handed it to Bane. He wasted no time and tensed as he lifted his head to slip it on. This was the face – or lack of one, rather – that Amelia was used to. She couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation; a chill coursing through her, but she used all of her efforts to stay calm. "There. Better?" She let off a bit of annoyance, but Bane paid no attention to her. His breathing was still rapid as pain was still ravaging through his body, though it became gradually dulled as he inhaled the weak vapor being supplied to him, trying to slow his breathing to take deeper breaths.

Amelia sat unprofessionally in the arm chair beside the hospital bed. She highly doubted that he was going to be expecting any visitors so it was of no use to anybody other than herself. Carefully monitoring the EKG, she took notice of his heart rate beginning to drop. She crossed her legs and leaned forward. "So tell me," she started, running her finger along the bottom of her bangs. "How exactly does that thing help with your pain?" She motioned toward his face and he slowly turned his head to face her.

Bane wasn't going to object to giving her that information. He knew that there was no reason to withhold it and it could possibly be harmful if he did so. "It distributes medication," he stated bluntly.

Medication? Although she should have figured such a reply, Amelia was caught off guard by it. Her face scrunched as she thought about it, connecting the invisible dots. "It's constant?" she asked, genuinely interested, as many doctors probably would be if they weren't going against their own career descriptions with this case.

Bane only nodded, leading her to ask further questions. "In a vaporous form, I assume?"

He nodded again. She was smart, but not in a way that was particularly admirable to the masked man.

"Do you know what medication it holds? Morphine? Oxycodone? Hydrocodone?" Her eyes narrowed in dire seriousness as she asked this, being her most important question surrounding its medical use.

Bane shook his head. "It's a combination of morphine, ketamine, and a corticosteroid."

Amelia's eyes widened again, surprised by his answer. "That's a pretty dangerous combination of drugs." She stated, brows knitting together.

Still entirely unmoved, Bane replied. "I know, which is why the man who designed the medication named it Venom."

Amelia slowly nodded before standing and returning to the machine distributing the morphine, turning it off. "I'll have to take you off of the pain medication you're already on then. I can't have you falling into a coma, can I?" She returned to her seat and scratched the back of her head as she was hesitant on asking anything else. But as she thought about this situation, she realized that it had brought about an actual interest in Bane's case other than following her deeply rooted morals. Despite the fact that she was willingly treating such a fiercely intimidating individual, she found that his case was medically fascinating. She was a doctor, afterall. And just as she couldn't deny her sense of morality, she couldn't deny her passion for her work. "Does it get rid of all of your pain?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Not entirely," Bane replied, matter-of-factly.

Amelia pouted, her eyes wandering up to view the ceiling as her curiosity got the best of her. She looked back at Bane and could see that he wasn't particularly phased by any of the questions she was asking him, but continued to acquire a more accurate medical history. "I'm gonna have to assume, after looking at what was written in your chart, the pain stems from your back, right?"

All she was given was another simple nod in response; a glint in his eyes hinting toward a traumatic truth – one that has yet to be disclosed. She was immediately compelled to ask him about it. "What happened that caused the chronic pain?"

And suddenly that glint was gone. Bane's expression didn't falter, but he finally came to the point in which to stop answering the doctor's inquisitions. "You know, doctor, I doubt that has anything to do with how you plan on treating me," he said coldly, a small twinge in his eyes.

Amelia let out a small laugh that was just as cold, shaking her head in a misplaced sense of amusement. "You know does have to do with how I treat you? How do you intend on eating with that thing on?"

There was a brief silence that hung over the two as Amelia eagerly waited for whatever information the man had to give her. "You shouldn't really be eating anything for a day or two, but I have to know," she said further.

"I'm very well capable of removing it, but I need injections of the compound for the moments when I am not wearing it," Bane replied, no longer objecting to answering her questions. As long as her knowledge of the mask would benefit him he didn't mind disclosing anything. It was unnecessary inquiries sparked by her curiosity that he would not answer.

Finding the answer interesting, Amelia pouted as she tried to formulate a plan of how to make this work. As far as she knew, the only ounces of the compound were inside his mask. Her hand resting up by her mouth, covering it as she took a moment to think, she let out a small sigh. "Is there any way I can take a sample of the compound to the lab downstairs?" she asked.

Bane continued to emotionlessly answer her questions. "The mask contains two cartridges in the back which are removable," he stated knowingly.

Amelia's delicate features scrunched together as a spark seemed to light up in her eyes upon hearing him say that. "There's a lab downstairs where they test experimental drugs. I can bring one of the cartridges there and have somebody recreate it so that we can have it handy."

She got up from the chair and stood beside the bed, gesturing for him to go on. "If you'd be so kind," she said somewhat sarcastically, cocking her hip to the side.

Bane did not hesitate and winced as he lifted his head up from the pillow once again, fiddling with the back of his mask in order to remove one of the cartridges. He carefully handed it to Amelia before resting his head back down on the pillow. She enclosed it in her hand, shaking it up and down. "I'll run this down to the lab now. You'll get it back when they're done using it," she said to the mercenary, though he didn't need her assurance of its return.

She turned on her heels and briskly headed for the door, feeling a wave of relief come over her. Everything about Bane was intimidating but she didn't want to let any of her insecurities show in front of him. Everything down to his unwavering expression seemed to intimidate her, but she knew very well that backing out on this case wasn't an option. Through stress and annoyance, she would continue to treat him.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Some of you must be thinking "OMFG FINALLY" Amiright? Looks like I've got some explaining to do~~~

First off, I'd like to say that I'm so so so soooo incredibly sorry about how HORRENDOUSLY long it took me to update! Wow, I really didn't think it would take this long! And I do feel awful about it, but I struggled with some serious writer's block and a lack of inspiration for, like, ever. But here's what I promised you guys! Some vulnerable Baney poo. (haha what)

Second, I really tried to make this setting as realistic as possible. I used what little medical knowledge I have to make this seem convincing, but I'm not a doctor who pshh I have no idea if I've actually succeeded or not. As far as Bane's mask goes, I tried my hardest to come up with a realistic scenario for how he functions when he has it off and just what the medication it dispenses is. I took what Dr. Michael Leong (Clinic Chief at the Stanford Pain Medical Center) said about it into account, which was that it's probably an opioid, steroid, nitrous oxide, ketamine, or some combination of those substances. So I thought about them individually and I know that nitrous oxide is the laughing gas that they use at the dentist and I don't think he'd be able to function properly on something like that constantly since it makes you pretty loopy, so I decided to go with a combination of morphine, ketamine and a steroid. And I know corticosteroids are generally used for back pain so there ya go. ;D And what's the combination called? Venom! It would be a crime if I didn't call it that haha.

So yeah, I promise that it won't take me as long to write the third chapter. Thanks for reading~ xx


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